Wake Me Up
by Gabriel Seraph
Summary: Nick goes to the Bates Motel, where a strange young dude named Monroe is there to help him search for the box that may contain the first clues to the identities of his long-lost parents and brother. Part 2 of the Lost Boy Chronicles. Moderate language, a highly bloody scene at the end, Norman Bates appears as a background character.
1. Chapter 1

AN: And now to present Part 2 of the increasingly poorly-written Lost Boy Chronicles. As usual, flames please, and if you hate it then I love you.

This part will be significantly shorter than "Counting Stars," because it will take place all within the space of about four hours, and merely sets the stage for Part 3, the planned Sleepy Hollow crossover bit.

R&R and enjoy!

Wake Me Up

Chapter 1

Nick pulled the old Saturn up to the parking lot at the address his foster parents had given him. Sure enough, the place was a fairly nondescript old motel, but with a towering gothic mansion looming large behind it. A large neon sign by the roadside blared "Bates Motel - Vacancy."

As he drove in, he realized he and Regina weren't alone. Another car - specifically, a big white panel van - pulled into the parking lot right next to the Saturn. Nick watched and waited until the van disgorged its driver, a heavy guy with a scraggly beard and wild, animal-y hair. He turned around, spotted Nick, and said in a surprisingly light voice, "No, go right ahead. You got here first, didn't you?"

"Uh...yeah, I-I guess so. Okay then." Nick trudged up to the office, shuddering as he kept replaying that gloriously un-smooth response in his mind. He'd always known he'd been born without the God-given ability to lay it on thick with a trowel and carry on a reasonable conversation with any live human, but ever since he'd started hanging out with Regina, he'd thought he was finally starting to overcome that particular barrier. Clearly, not so much.

He sat on a chair by the office door after ringing the bell, while the bearded dude ambled in and stood awkwardly in the corner. Soon, a neatly-dressed young man came up to the front desk and said, "Good evening, guys. Room for two?"

Nick and the other guy exchanged glances. "No," said Nick. "Well, I'm with someone else, but this guy's all by himself."

The young man nodded understandingly. "Sorry, just a formality. If you'll sign the register, please..." He picked up a small ledger and spun it around, handing Nick a pen so he could sign it. He chose to put in the name "Rick Kartheiser," the very same alias he'd used in the story he'd told Regina about the origins of his zombie cheerleader drawing.

"You get Room One," said the young man, pulling the key from a row of hooks on the back of the desk. "My name is Norman Bates, and if you and your friend need anything, don't hesitate to call up. Okay?"

"Will do," said Nick brightly, leaving the room to get Regina and the few bags they'd packed for their journey.

* * *

The bearded guy, unlike Nick, chose to sign the guest register with his own name. Once he was done and Norman had given him the key to Room Two, he pulled out his cell phone and placed a call. "He's in," he said.

"Did he use his real name?" asked the woman on the other end of the line.

"No."

"Wonderful. He's at least savvy enough not to leave traces. Remember, make sure nobody else sees the package."

The bearded guy frowned. "But he said something about having someone else with him."

"That's okay," said the woman. "This other person can be trusted too. Just make sure the wrong people don't get the package. Like the motel owners. I don't trust them. Something's definitely not right about that family."

"If you say so," said the bearded guy breezily. "Thanks." He hung up and returned to his van to unload his suitcase.

* * *

Nick and Regina each stretched out on one of the two twin beds in Room One. "Posh digs," commented Regina dryly, noting the plain decor. "You know, this is the sort of place serial killers like to hide out at."

Nick chuckled. "The guy at the front desk might have been one. He was too well-dressed, especially given that he looked like he might have been about our age."

"Well, this is a rural country town," Regina said. "Not everybody is as laid-back and cool with dressing down like in Forest Peak, don't you know?"

"I wish," said Nick.

Regina yawned hugely. "Damn, why am I so tired? You know, maybe I'll just sleep through your little adventure while I'm here. Wake me up when it's all over."

"When you're wiser and you're older?" Nick joked, bastardizing the lyrics to Avicii's big hit song.

Regina rolled over and made horrible fake snoring noises, prompting Nick to shut up and sit back himself. Maybe they could both do with some rest.

As it happened, though, they wouldn't be getting any rest any time soon. Their adventure was about to start, like many adventures did, with an insistent series of knocks on the door of Room One. Nick stood up and answered the door, but only after peering through the peephole and noticing the person on the other side. It was the bearded guy with the white van. _Probably another serial killer too, _Nick thought. _Isn't that what serial killers like to drive, plain old panel vans?_

Nevertheless, he opened the door and the big guy walked in. "Rick Kartheiser, huh?" he asked, with a hint of snideness. "You couldn't have come up with an alias that at least didn't sound like your real name?"

"Who are you?" Nick asked.

"Eddie Monroe," he said. "But just Monroe, please." Nick shook his hand, and Monroe went on. "So you're here to look for some kind of mumbo-jumbo magic box your parents left behind for you?"

"How'd you know?" Nick asked.

Monroe looked around, as if trying to ensure they weren't going to be overheard. "Hold on, almost forgot to introduce myself to this one," he said, crossing the room to meet Regina. They exchanged names and shook hands. "Now how did you meet this one?" Monroe asked Nick. "Is she...does she...you know, do stuff?"

Regina made a fireball in her hand. "Does that answer your question?"

"Um, yeah," said Monroe. "Well, all I know is that Nicky here was left behind by his real parents when he was four or five, and they left behind a box. I don't know anything else, 'cause I was only ten at the time, I wasn't old enough for the meeting."

"What meeting?" Nick asked.

"My parents and your foster parents are part of a group called the Seven Families," Monroe said. "We're descended from a bunch of mages or something like that who used to live all over Europe."

"So what about Regina here?" Nick asked. "And what about me?"

"You guys aren't related to any of the Seven Families by blood," said Monroe. "At least, as far as I know. Maybe you are, because officially the Seven Families are the only humans with the right DNA codings for magical ability. Maybe you guys are aliens. Who knows?" He took a breath before continuing. "Anyway, they used to all live here in White Pine Bay, and they had an annual meeting in this very room. That's where you came in, Nick."

"And you know where to find this...this box they were talking about?" Nick asked. "My parents, I mean."

"Well, um, no." Monroe sighed, and scratched his heavy stubble. "They didn't say exactly where it was buried. I mean, they also said if anyone else found it they wouldn't even be able to open it, anyway." He put down the long suitcase he'd been carrying and opened it, revealing a shovel. "I was told to come here today and bring this. My mother said one of the other families knew you were coming, and we were supposed to make sure you didn't leave until you got what you were looking for."

Nick took the shovel in his hand. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go! Regina, you wanna come with?"

Regina yawned again. "I wish, but I wouldn't do you much good. I'm too tired, sweetheart. All this twisted family history is shutting my brain down."

"All right then," said Nick. He turned to Monroe and asked, "Where do you wanna start?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Monroe and Nick decided to start in the woods behind the motel itself. It seemed like the most logical hiding place for a mysterious chest of some kind. Of course, both of them knew it would take a very long time to search all that potential area, so they decided to get started right away. Monroe took the shovel out of his suitcase once more and started digging underneath a small sycamore, but then stopped. "Dammit," he grumbled. "I just realized - I forgot to pack the second shovel."

"We'll take turns, then," said Nick, holding out his hand to take the shovel.

"Good idea," said Monroe. "That way we can refuel a bit in between diggings. How deep do you wanna go?" he asked, as he dug out a small Tupperware box from his suitcase.

"I dunno, maybe five feet?" said Nick. "I doubt it'd be any deeper. They were probably in a hurry anyway." He resumed digging the hole that Monroe had started, while Monroe opened his Tupperware and started munching little round foodstuffs that Nick couldn't even begin to identify in the dark. they were dark brown, almost black, and filled with some kind of green vegetable-y stuff. "What's that you're eating?" he asked conversationally after about two minutes of digging.

"Roasted mushroom caps filled with basil pesto," Monroe said. "I got another box for you, whenever you take a break. Don't eat 'em all at once, though - they're addictive, but not really all that filling."

Nick threw down the shovel again, and cursed as he slammed straight into a sycamore root, sending nasty vibrations through the shovel and up into his arm. "Fuck, that hurt."

Monroe closed the Tupperware and examined the exposed root with a flashlight. "That's odd, seeing this tree here," he said. "They're not native. Bet the previous owner put them up."

"The previous owner?"

"Yeah, the Bates family just moved in, I dunno, six months ago or something," said Monroe. "Lemme tell ya, the Families were on the point of giving up on this place too. Old owner was quite unbalanced, to say the least. Luckily, he turned up dead after the Bateses came along."

"Dead?" Nick asked. "How?"

"Drowned in the harbor," said Monroe. "Good thing, too. Not to be rude or anything, or disrespectful to the dead, but this guy...the hotel's better off without him. He never cleaned, never wanted to be bothered with anything, even giving us the keys to our rooms. He couldn't even set a consistent price on the rooms, either. Kept overcharging everyone one year, undercharging the next. But the Bateses - they're way more hospitable, way nicer folk."

"Probably serial killers waiting to eat our flesh," Nick joked as he expanded the now four-foot-deep hole he'd made so he could start climbing down into it.

"What are the odds?" Monroe intoned in his spookiest voice, even doing a weird hand gesture to go with it. At the same time, his face flickered slightly, and appeared to morph into something decidedly less human. It was like a mask of some kind, with a heavy beard, long snoutlike nose, and blazing red eyes. A split second later, however, his face returned to normal.

Used to seeing these sorts of monsters on TV, Nick merely laughed politely, then kept digging for a while in silence before asking Monroe something that had been nagging at him ever since they'd met in Room One. "Monroe," he said slowly, "I hope this isn't too personal or anything, but...you said these Seven Families have magic powers or something? Well, what kind of powers do you have?"

Monroe chuckled. "Dude, you're gonna love this. Either that, or you'll go insane and start screaming and shitting your pants. Either way, don't say I didn't warn ya." He stood back, then his face rippled as the weird animal-like mask appeared again.

Nick could only stare. It took him a long time before he found his voice again and asked, "What is that?"

Returning to normal once again, Monroe said, "I'm what we call a Wesen. It means I have - well, it's hard to describe. You know how everyone is supposed to have a spirit animal?"

"Yeah."

"I can actually become a sort of hybrid spirit-animal thing," said Monroe. "It's called a _woge_- the whole transformation thing, I mean. And there's Wesen of just about every kind of animal there is. My particular form is a Blutbad - a wolf Wesen. You might know us as the Big Bad Wolf."

Nick blinked. "Like in the fairy tale?"

"Exactly," said Monroe. "Those were real accounts of fights between Blutbaden and Bauerschweine - that's pig Wesen to you, civilian. We're still feuding about it to this day."

"And are all the Seven Families some kind of Wesen?" Nick asked.

"Just mine and one other," said Monroe. "The other is Hexenbiest - witch Wesen. That would be the Kronenbergs."

Nick paused and thought for a second. "Don't tell me this is one of those deals where we can only see your true form when you want us to."

"Usually, it is," said Monroe. "But there are some people who can see us anytime anyway. They're called Grimms. What, did you see my _woge_ earlier?"

"For a second, yeah," said Nick.

"Hmm," said Monroe. "Probably you are a Grimm. But if what the Families said about your parents is true, then maybe you've got other powers too. Maybe you're just one of us and you don't even know it yet."

"Maybe, maybe, maybe," said Nick. "That's kinda becoming my least favorite word now." He climbed out of the hole and started filling it in. "The chest or box or whatever it is obviously ain't here," he said. "You think we could go to another part of the woods?"

"Hell yeah," said Monroe. "It's been getting boring just sitting here talking. At least, for me, anyway. I don't really do conversations well, you know."

"That's what I keep telling myself," said Nick. "But we seem to be doing just fine. Now if you were a hot girl..."

"Like Regina?"

"Hey, hands off, wolf boy!"

Monroe snorted. "Yeah, she's too bony anyway."

Nick shot Monroe the bird before continuing. "Yeah, if you were a girl I'd have so much trouble talking to you right now. I'd be tripping all over every word I even think of trying to say, I'd be stuttering like crazy."

"You just wouldn't be able to spit it out, would you?" Monroe asked.

"Exactly," said Nick. He finished filling in the hole, and he and Monroe set off, following the edge of the woods to find another promising-looking spot.


End file.
